Fake Tree

Well, I’m home. It’s the Christmas Hols! Thank bloody God for that! Dad turned up at lunchtime and we drove home in near silence. I think he’s trying to be in a mood with me on behalf of Sal because I haven’t called her since the engagement announcement. Big bloody deal. It’s not my fault that I’m wise enough to know that the whole damn thing’s doomed from the off.. He also made a fleeting query about how I’d got on with my mocks so I glossed over that subject to the best of my ability. It’s bound to rear its head again before too long though so I’d better come up with some creative excuses for not divulging my results.

Mother was asleep in the living room when I got home. Dad reckoned she was exhausted from putting up the Christmas decorations. He’s so bloody soft it’s hopeless. I’m not sure even I would be worn out from taking a four foot fake tree out of a box and plugging it in. I couldn’t help noticing the empty glass of brandy on the table next to her but thought I wouldn’t mention it. Dad looks thinner than I’ve ever seen him before. Probably a mixture of stresses – being married to my sizzled mother is one, and being about to fork out for the most disastrous wedding in modern history the other. It’s enough to put you off getting married and having kids… Must get those jonnies..

Having said that of course, my marriage is bound to be a roaring success as I know I’m destined to end up with a bloody fox who is just desperate to do my every bidding and answer my every whim. Can’t bloody wait for that! In the meantime I shall make do with keeping Zoe Hall suitably serviced. Bring it on!

The A List

Hmmm.. slight issue. 62% in English. Pass. 59% in Spanish. Pass. 36%
in Economics. Not quite what we want. I think Mr Davis feels like I've
let down the whole school. Apparently it's the lowest mark ever
achieved in a mock A level. I mean, RELAX. It's a MOCK! Obviously I
wasn't really trying. Honestly some people just need to take a serious
chill pill. He's now talking about individual coaching in the hols.
Like that's going to happen. Luckily the end of term reports have
already been written and posted so I don't have to fess up to the
folks. Not yet anyway. Knowing Davis he'll probably call them for
"crisis talks" or something similarly over-dramatic. What a lot of
nonsense and fuss about nothing. I'm far more concerned about what I
should wear to Zoe's party on Monday night.

Oh yes. It's ON! And I'm invited. I'm probably the guest of honour in
her eyes. She must want me. If she was at all concerned about the
trouser fumble she would have excluded me from the list. Seriously
excited. Of course now I have to go and buy some condoms. Not
something I've ever done before. I could pinch some out of Dad's
bedside cabinet but it's been so long since the parentals have enjoyed
an active sex life I reckon his jonnies will have perished by now. I
wonder where I should make the purchase.. If I wait til I get home
then one of mother's associates is bound to be in the same queue as me
at Boots and I'll be the sauce of Rummy gossip for the entire festive
season.

No, I think I'll have to get it all sorted before then. That's not the
half of it of course. Having never put one on I'm really at a bit of a
loss as to how it all works. Let's hope Zoe knows what she's doing...

Results

Oh my God. I think I might actually be dead. I have NEVER drunk that much booze in one evening. I don’t know what Hargreaves was thinking, God bless him. What a LEDGE housemaster! He’d obviously massively over-ordered and we all ended up with little short of a crate of McEwan’s each! Combine that with the fact that the “dinner” came out of the school kitchens and was therefore largely left on the plate, and it amounted to a bloody tipsy night.

In the end we decided against games. No one was in the mood and Ed Williams got his dad to bring his decks in so we turned the TV room into a small-scale nightclub. It was a bloody good laugh actually. Miss Dobson was no less smashed than the rest of us and Jonny may well have snogged her had Matron not stepped in to preserve what was left of her dignity. She was bundled into a cab about ten minutes later. Christ knows if she ever made it home. Can’t wait to shame them in assembly tomorrow morning. We would have done it today had we not all been so utterly hanging.. I’d be surprised if we see Dobson this side of the new year all things considered.

Mock results are going up on the boards later this afternoon. Not exactly relishing finding out how badly I’ve done but fuck it, it’s nearly Christmas. It’s not like the parentals are even going to be aware of my results. They seem to be far too wrapped up in their own dilemmas at the moment. Haven’t heard from either of them for almost two weeks now. Christ knows who’s coming to pick me up and take me home. Perhaps I’m supposed to carry my own trunk on the train like some sort of Victorian pauper. Ridiculous…

House Games

Once again my status as the “sixth former with time on his hands” has found me roped into setting up the house Christmas dinner tonight. On the plus side it means I get to organise the seating plan which will ensure that I am not sitting amongst the arrogant bastards of the boarding house. I have decided to place myself between Adam Fuller because he is quite amusing, especially when inebriated, and Jonny Adkins because he is popular and will make me look cool. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. Obviously I’m pretty bloody awesome in my own right but there’s no harm in accentuating the positive..

Hargreaves wants me to come up with a game that everyone can play afterwards. That’s a tough call, considering there’s fifty of us that live here and eight members of staff who will be attending too. I’m tempted to suggest that he leads us in a game of hide and seek and then we all get smashed while he’s waiting for us in some cupboard. Oh, he also wants me to make sure that one of the third years takes a plate of food to Dominic Lafferty’s study so he at least gets something to eat. Big mistake. There’s every chance that that plate of food will end up smeared over the walls of the entrance hall if Lafferty’s behaviour of late is anything to go by. He’s really quite deranged. The sooner he gets out of the public school system the better. I think he’d agree with that too, given his utter loathing of anything vaguely privileged or middle class. Apparently he’s the heir to a multi million pound fortune as well. What a massive waste. He’ll only piss it up the wall on charitable donations and other pointless tat. Makes you sick…

An Excellent Uncle

Bloody wicked afternoon, yesterday. Ralph and I headed to Deerham as planned and made our way to The Old Fox. Charming pub. Legendary landlord, totally bonkers. Really bloody cuckoo. We drank far too much of course, as the old boy just kept bringing us more and more booze. He hadn’t a clue that we were underage. I think he’s probably from a time when there was no minimum age. By the time we left it was almost pitch black outside. There was no way either of us were in a state to make our way back across the moor to the city so we had to knock up Ralph’s uncle. Bloody good egg. He took us under his wing big style and sobered us up with pints of water and coffee and then he drove us back to the school gates so we were ensconced in our respective studies in plenty of time. Reckon Hargreaves was slightly suss but he couldn’t do anything as the excruciating nausea had passed. I was just in rather a jolly mood!

I did consider heading out again in time for the end of supper leave to meet the revellers but decided to stay low key. Probably for the best. I was clearly going to be on Hargreaves radar for the duration of the evening. Hope Zoe wasn’t expecting to see me. Will find out today what the plan is for the party. Have decided, what’s the worst that can happen if I do bring it up? She can only say no. And if she does then at least I’ll know where I stand. God, she’d better not say no though. I’ll be bloody gutted. Just think, in a little over a weeks’ time I could be a fully-fledged sexually active individual. I will have properly made it in life. Ruddy awesome.

New Pub

Got absolute rat-arsed in Hargreaves’ flat last night. Not as rat-arsed as Dominic Lafferty of course. Yet again he couldn’t handle his booze and had a pop at the middle classes, forgetting that he’s a fully paid up member of said class. He knocked over one of Hargreaves’ porcelain thimbles before running into his bathroom and yacking up (more on the pedestal mat than down the pan). Needless to say Hargreaves has banned him from the House Christmas dinner on Monday night. I don’t know where he expects him to go. It’s not like he can be locked in his study. Lafferty will find a way to get hold of some booze. He always does. I’m going to predict here and now that there’ll be fireworks between those two before Tuesday morning. CLASSIC!

Ralph and I are going for a “run” this afternoon. This whole dressing up in PE kit just to go and get shit-faced in a boozer three miles away is losing its appeal though. I might even take a change of clothes in a ruck-sack this time. I’m sure the other drinkers must think we’re bloody odd sat there in white shorts in the middle of December. We’re going to try somewhere else near Deerham today. Ralph reckons he knows the perfect place. It’s not far from where his uncle lives apparently. I think we should just go round his uncle’s place and crack into his booze but Ralph reckons that’s a non-starter. We’ll see.. I’ve got to buy the smokes again. I’m sure it’s not my turn. Plus Ralph is going through a “hard” phase and makes me buy the red packet. Urgh, it’s like putting an exhaust pipe in your mouth. I might over-rule him on this one. I think it’s time I started demonstrating that I’m not a complete pushover.

Mock Shortbread

I decided to be super-generous and take Elspeth a Christmas present when I went to see her yesterday afternoon. I bought her a tin of shortbread from Sainsbury’s. One of those ones that comes in a tin that looks like it’s got a ribbon around it. I thought that was pretty damn generous of me but she didn’t seem remotely impressed. Bloody old hag. Don’t think I’ll bother with her anymore. That was £1.49 down the bloody drain. Honestly, she looked at it like I’d given her a tin of dog turds. Elspeth; that’s probably a Scottish name isn’t it.. They’re a dour old bunch. I expect she doesn’t really believe in celebrating Christmas, or anything else come to that. These war veterans are all about sufferance and hardship. They bloody love it. Well, they can have it. I’m not going to feel bad about wanting to enjoy life. Sorry Elspeth, you’re history.

My driving test has been cancelled next week. Total pain in the arse. Now I’m not going to be able to drive during the hols which is going to make impressing Zoe a damn sight harder. I spoke to Ralph about the party. He thinks I should ask her about it. He says it’ll be a good way to “open up a dialogue” – I seriously question Ralph’s taste in vocab at times. I want him to ask. Hard as it is to admit, he’s better looking than me, and Zoe’s bound to be more encouraged if he mentions it to her. She’ll think I’m just after more fumbles if I say anything. Of course that’s exactly what I am after but I don’t want to make it obvious. Last mock today. Who’d be a teacher? They’ve got to get them all marked and results back to us by Wednesday. I think I can safely say I’m not particularly looking forward to Wednesday..